The edge
by Shockey13
Summary: Written for the heatwave prompt created by CSI Encyclopedia and given to me by indigovioletstargazer. Set sometime during season 4 in Pakistan.
1. Jumper

A/N: My fic for the prompt **Heatwave.** So I know these are suppose to be one shots, but I might add a chapter or two to this later. Not 100% sure. Rating may change too. Let me know what you think.**  
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* * *

She stares straight down at the trickling water stream below, which is slowly being merged with the sweat dripping off her forehead. Dangerously close to the edge of the bridge in a strange sense, the risk of falling feels good. A hell of a lot more thrilling than it has been for her. She rips off the suffocating headscarf first and watches it make it's way down. The exact destination below is unknown, which is oddly mesmerizing.

She had fucked up. Really fucked up. Her best asset she had turned on her in an unsuspecting instant and was fucking up everything she worked for. With her life and job now at stake, why not just end it all now?

Next she tosses the tunic. It's a little heavier and reaches the shallow water quicker. It also allows the pool of accumulated sweat on her back to somehow evaporate, even sending a much needed chill down her spine

The water looks better by the second and all she can think about for the time being was going right on ahead and leaping in. It would be quick, probably even painless, but just maybe that water could be the last thing she ever felt. _No don't._ She thinks.

Finally he spots her. Driving around slowly for an hour with no a/c has really gotten to him and at this point, he's pissed off. He given her so much shit, but is sick to see that she is practically dangling over the bridge. That fucking water is shallow and there's no way she'd make it if she fell.

He's not sure whether or not to call her name or just go up behind her and pull her off the ledge. Coming from behind seemed too risky and she might just fall so he calls her name.

"Carrie!"

She's not surprised at all to see him, but very much wishes that he would just go the fuck away. He gets not a single form of acknowledgement. Knowing that she is aware he is there, he begins with a harsher approach.

"Carrie what the fuck are you doing?"

"Go away Quinn! I mean it!" She screams.

"What you just going to do it? You going to jump!?" He says irritated while wiping the sweat off of his forehead.

She tightens her grip on the ledge, but doesn't respond right away.

"Maybe... I'm just going swimming! Go away!"

Quinn bites his top lip.

"Carrie I know you're upset, but you don't want to die. I know you don't."

"Maybe I do!"

He's slowly inching his way over as he continues.

"It's just the heat! It's getting to you! Come on we'll go for a drive and cool off," he tries to convince.

She turns to him now in tears.

"I am just fine. Please! I'm fine! I'm fine! I'm fine! I just want to swim!"

He's right next to her and reaches out his hand.

"Okay. Okay. We can do that. We can swim. But not here!"

Carrie is now bawling and still not grabbing his hand.

"Why did you have to come here!? Don't act like anyone would have missed me!"

"That's not true Carrie and you know it! I care. A lot of people care!"

"You're just saying that so I'll get down!"

"Carrie you know who you have to live for," he says delivering an emotional sting.

She suddenly slips and is now teetering over the edge, but Quinn catches her by the legs. He doesn't pull her up immediately and allows her to take in what is below her.

Fear emerges throughout her entire body indicated by the tears and sweat that have since increased. Her eyes are wide open secretly asking to make it stop, but still doesn't move an inch. Dying was never the answer which became much more clear at this moment.

"I'm going to pull you up now," he assures her. Quinn lifts her up slowly and carefully with little effort. He can't tell if she is shocked or embarrassed, but it's probably a little bit of both.

There's a narrow trail at the end of the bridge and he grabs her hand and takes her with him to cool down. Her shirt had landed on a jagged rock which was in reach for him to scoop it up. While he retrieves it, she sits on the shore thinking about what had just happened.

"I wasn't going to do it you know," she says almost mocking the situation while he rings out her shirt.

He looks up at her for a moment and then back down at the shirt and uses every muscle in his upper body to squeeze the water out over her head. She gasps as the cold water hits her face.

"Don't ever fucking do that again!" He scolds.

She sticks out her foot and trips him to the ground as he starts to walk away.

"I just had a rough fucking day Quinn!"

He gets up angered and tightly grabs both sides of her arms, right below her shoulders.

"Yeah well I've had fucking rough days too, but I don't fucking pretend I'm going to kill myself!"

"Quinn let-"

"You're fucked up if you think no one cares! I care!" He finishes while loosening his grip.

She slaps him hard in the face as he lets go.

"Don't fucking touch me like that again!"

He did grab her hard, probably even left bruises.

"Guess I deserved that."

"I'm sorry," she mutters with him barely hearing her, as he is now by the water. "Maybe it is just too fucking hot for me to think?" She finishes.

Quinn takes off his own shirt, soaks it in the water and wraps it around his neck.

"Next time I'll have to shoot you if you're not going to listen," he teases after being relieved by the cold water rushing down his body.

She narrows her eyes at him, but accepts his helping hand to get off the ground.

"That was a one time thing," she says as she gets to her feet. He's silent, but stares at her like he has something to say and she's curious. "What are you thinking about?"

"You," he says without thinking.


	2. The bottle

A/N: So I did indeed continue this story, mostly because it was a fabulous prompt that generated a slew of ideas. This is not the last chapter and there will still be more to come. Thank you to Bookworm, Indigo, Maggie and Guest for your encouragement. This literally starts right after the last one left off.

* * *

"What are you thinking about?"

"You," he says without thinking.

"Oh," she responds slightly flustered.

He's just now realizing what he said and how he said it.

"I should get you home."

"Home?"

"You should sleep Carrie," he tells rather than suggests.

Their relief from the water is slowly decimating as it's evaporating quicker than expected.

"I don't want to go back there... I can't go back there!"

"Why not?"

"I'm afraid!" She admits with Quinn easily identifying the sheer desperation in her voice.

He soaks his shirt again in order to think in this stifling heat.

"What about my place? Will you go there?" He offers bravely.

She sighs.

"Yeah... I'll go."

He saturates her shirt once more before throwing it to her.

"Here put this on."

* * *

As soon as they walk in, he heads straight for the bathroom.

"Do you have a/c in here!?" She asks quickly, but he has already shut the door.

She searches for a thermostat and finds nothing but a small fan and turns it on full blast. It's still not enough. Once again she starts looking for anything that will cool her down. She opens the freezer where there isn't much. Inside is a full tray off ice cubes and an ice cold bottle of vodka that hasn't been broken into yet.

She hears the water start to run and decides to grab the bottle. The icy condensation quickly melts when she grabs it with her hand and again when she places it on her forehead. Soon enough she removes the cap and takes a few sips. The chilled liquor is seeming to be doing the trick just fine. She places the bottle on the end table and heads to the bathroom.

_Knock knock_.

"Uh, whatcha doing Quinn?" She says opening the door.

"What does it look like I'm doing? I'm taking a cold shower," he answers on the other side of the curtain.

"Oh. Do you have a/c in here?"

"Nope."

"Fuck if I'd known that, I'd just went back to my place," she says before exiting.

He rolls his eyes and shakes his head while enjoying every speckle of cold water contacting his skin. As soon as he's satisfied, he turns the water off and slips a towel around his waste. He enters the living room to see Carrie taking a swig of his prized possession.

"What the hell are you doing?"

"What does it look like I'm doing? I'm cooling off," she justifies.

He makes his way over to her as she is about to take another drink and snatches it right out of her hand.

"What the fuck Quinn!"

"You know what I had to go through to get that!? I was saving that!" He says and he takes a sip.

"For what?"

"A hot day," he responds calmly enjoying the smooth burn.

"Well it's pretty fucking hot!" She retorts.

"And for someone who didn't try to jump off a bridge today," he adds.

She shakes her head in disbelief.

"I already told you I wasn't going to fucking jump!"

"Was that before or after I showed up?" He asks placing the bottle down.

She ignores him and attempts to take the bottle again, but he grabs it tight when she gets a hand there. She looks him in the eye a moment before answering.

"Before."

He doesn't let go as she again tries to tug it away from him.

"I'm going to go shower," she says now creating a distance.

"Good idea."

"Do... do you have anything I could wear here?"

He removes his eyes from the bottle.

"I'll check."

Quinn puts on a only a pair of boxers and searches through his wardrobe for anything for her to wear. He finds himself eliminating any material that he knew she would hate. The end result is a tee-shirt. A tee-shirt that he's had since he was a teenager and brought it everywhere he went despite never actually wearing it. He also finds a pair of light track pants with a decent drawstring.

He starts to crack open the door to deliver the clothing and can just barely detect her sobbing. It's hardly recognizable, but he knows what he hears. He leaves forgetting to drop off what she had requested, and regrets his questioning in the living room. It's starting to cool down a little with the sun almost set, but he still sinks into the couch with the fan on him. Minutes later he can hear shuffling coming from the bathroom and Carrie calling his name.

"Quinn!?"

"Yeah?" He answers immediately.

"The clothes?" She shouts through the door.

"Oh sorry they're out here!" He shouts back.

She gathers the outfit with only a towel around her without making eye contact, and heads directly back to the bathroom. When she returns he has turned on the radio. She sits next to him and takes a deep breath.

"Can you understand any of this?" He asks breaking the silence.

She nods.

"They said it's expected to rain. Heavy rain."

"When?"

"Soon."

"Oh.. do you want some of this?" He offers some vodka after feeling guilty.

"Yes please," she says as he hands it over.

"Hey you know what you look like right now?" He asks out of the blue.

"What!?" She asks defending herself already.

He points to her her hair.

"A towel head," he expresses attempting to make a joke

"Shut up. Fuck you!" She smiles then pushes him and takes a sip.

That's all he was looking for was one smile. It helped him to know that she could and would crack a smile.

After sipping the bottle a couple more times, he notices that she is deep in thought. He's been around her long enough to know when she's really thinking about something. She finally turns to him and releases her thoughts.

"Am I a bad person Quinn?"

He gets out of his slump responding to her unforeseen question.

"No! Carrie why would you think that?"

She looks straight down as she answers.

"Because... because I think I'm a bad person."

He takes her hand in his and assures her she is wrong.

"You're not Carrie. Don't you ever think that."


	3. Breaking bread

A/N: Part three of this story for the heatwave prompt. I'm only adding one more chapter, then wrapping it up. Let me know what you think. Lilmissfit, glad to see this strikes your interest.

P.s. And for anyone who reads Your star, I should be able to update it by this weekend, as I know plenty of you are waiting after how I left it.

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"You don't have to say that Quinn, I already know I am," she says staring into his glossy gaze.

She pulls her hand away and dries her wet hair with the towel. Quinn takes advantage of the vodka that she set on the coffee table, taking a giant gulp as he does not have anything else for her to say. Her sincere belief of this thought astounded him. Carrie returns the towel to the drying rack in the bathroom, though she returns without wearing the pants he had given her, now only wearing the t-shirt and panties.

His reaction is much unanticipated by both parties. This is exactly why he hating not drinking alone. When he drinks he gets emotional and mushy, sometimes even violent, but it's too late since they've already drank almost half the bottle between the both of them. They're both starting to feel the effects now. They're not drunk, but certainly on the verge and on the way too it.

"What?" She interrupts his prime focus.

"Huh?"

He had imagined her half naked before, but never under these circumstances.

"It's still too fucking hot for them!" She stumbles back onto the sofa.

"Yeah, yeah... you hungry? I'm hungry. I'm going to see what I have." He diverts his attention away from her, but already knows his reaction said it all.

He takes off to the tiny galley kitchen, not even allowing her to respond, taking the bottle with him.

"Hey where you going with that?" She follows him right in.

"I, well we have had enough tonight," he answers placing it back in the freezer.

He's parenting her despite his similar state, but she's allowing it. On a similar level, she agrees that they have had enough, but would prefer to just keep at it until she passes out cold. She's sort of even hoping to get so drunk that she doesn't get up to avoid the hell storm tomorrow when everyone finds out her work went to shit, rather wanting to deal with it all herself.

"I've got bread annnnnnnd bread," he shows her.

"Hmm," she debates. "The whole grain, it's darker."

Quinn mistakes the steak knife for a viable tool and the blade slips off the hard crust, slicing into his finger.

"Fuck," he shouts.

"You okay?"

"I'm good."

"Just let me see it," she insists.

He shows her a hardly visible flesh wound and she laughs.

"Do you just want me to do it Quinn?"

He hands her the knife although weary about it. She starts sweating while sawing through the loaf, but it's not just the heat. It's the memory of her father going right along with it that she has been tucking away since she's gotten back .

"What is it Carrie?" He says after seeing her struggling.

"Here eat!" She says placing the plate of bread in his hands.

She places a single piece of bread on her plate and joins him on the sofa.

"I thought it was going to rain?" He teases her interpretation.

"It better soon, I'm still dying of heat!"

He chews his food slowly before eventually throwing his plans at her.

"I'm uh, leaving in a couple of days," he announces out of the blue.

"Yeah haha me too," she mocks him.

"No Carrie I'm serious, I'll be gone by June 1st."

She sets down her plate and begins to question this ridiculous idea he was entertaining .

"Why?" She begins right on offense.

"Carrie you know I wanted out before and coming here just made everything worse," he explains with no regret.

"Are you saying I made it worse?" She spits furiously arching her brow at him.

He evades her initial question to offer some advice. It was starting to piss him off how much she put I, me, and my into everything.

"I... I think you should leave too. Go home. This place isn't doing you any good."

The alcohol is fueling through her veins telling her that Quinn is aggressively targeting her.

"I can't leave my job Quinn!"

If he wasn't being passive aggressive before he is now.

"But yet you have no problem leaving anything, anywhere, or anyone else," he says while noticing seemingly real fire igniting in her eyes. "I can't take what this place has done to you... to me."

"But it's my job! I help protect people, it's what I do!" She defends herself again.

"Yes, but it's not your life Carrie. I just don't want to see you get yourself hurt anymore. You almost... died today!"

He's clearly not getting through to her as she will not back down.

"If you really cared about me then you would stay! Come on Quinn do you really think I'm worried about some 20 year old kid getting in my way!?"

"Yes!"

"Well, well you're wrong!"

"Well I'm still leaving," he shouts.

Silence fills the air and Quinn continues to eat his food. Carrie is obviously scrambling in her head to find a solution to his decision. She knows she's in danger, but refuses to admit it.

"I'll talk to him tomorrow, straighten this all out. I'm sure it was only a misunderstanding," she does her best to convince Quinn, he ignores her. "I mean all he said was that he was done, finished. He didn't want to play for the wrong team anymore... I think I can change that."

He gets up from his seat after being sick of hearing her bullshit, leaving her alone while he goes to the balcony.

"Really you're just going to walk away," she says after following him. "Why do you even have a balcony anyways?"

"I like to be able to see everything," he responds dully.

She takes a deep breath, completely stressed that he won't budge.

"Quinn you're the only one I trust!"

"That's too bad I guess."

"What can I do to change your mind?" She asks in newly developed sweet tone while caressing his lower back.

Quinn glances back for a moment at her hand, slightly aroused. His altered mind is confusing him and he's not sure if he wants to strangle her for her continued pestering or if he wants fuck her right there on the railing. Either way he knew it would shut her up.

"Carrie!?"

"Quinn. Please!" She begs while practically rubbing his back. He restrains himself from his thoughts and stands his ground.

"Nothing," he delivers point blank.

She removes her hand from his body, looking down at the ground below. The rain finally makes an appearance, not even sneaking up slowly, but coming full blast. Without asking for permission he whisks her by the hand, quickly bringing her inside.

His whole mind feels clearer with the temperature dropping at a nice steady rate, no longer struggling to feel comfortable. He can see it in her as well, but knows that the heat was never her biggest problem. The thought of her, or even them, doing something stupid though was still very much apparent, forcing him to take action.

"It's late. I think I'm going to sleep," he tells her.

"Oh, uh yeah me too," she gives him the fakest smile he'd seen from her yet.

"You know if you don't want to be alone, if you're still... well you can sleep in my room," he offers, struggling to get his words out.

"No no. Couch is good," she assures him.

"Okay then. Goodnight," he says awkwardly leaving her there.

The second he enters the bedroom, the rain that was recently pounding against the building has suddenly stopped. After lying in bed for an hour, he could feel the temperature gradually rising again. No amount of rain was capable of stopping the lingering heat that kept creeping up on them at the worst time possible. It was keeping her awake too. As he is pretending to be asleep, he catches her sneaking into his bed. She's not afraid of him leaving, she's petrified.


	4. Sunburn

A/N: So I'm going to stop making deadlines for my writing lol. It will just be complete when it says complete.

Thanks a lot Indigo for the encouragement. I'll start my Fax(that's what I'm calling them now) story soon.

* * *

"Quinn! Quinn where are you?" Carrie screams bursting into his apartment.

She shouts his name over and over and searches, but it's just her and her echo.

She has stopped by her place to get something else to wear to tackle the heat, really wanting him to know she's not afraid anymore. He'll feel differently and will change his mind about leaving to fulfill the mission. Unless he hasn't already changed it having pulled off what he did today. She's willing to wait for him anyways after he seems to be no where. There was no way he was going to leave.

The search for the vodka is annoying. Why would he take it out of the freezer? Unwinding after a rather good day, she's up to hit the bottle early. A well deserved celebration or whatever it is. On top of that, it's only a few degrees cooler than it had been the day before. She 's brought her wine too, but the vodka sounds better at this point to in order get drunk faster.

Behind the couch is where she finally spots it and it's still as full as how it was left the night before, half empty. She drops 2 single ice cubes in the half full tumbler glass and quickly guzzles it down with her lithium. Before it sets in, paranoia begins to erupt when he doesn't show. Has he already left?

After a couple hours she convinces herself that he is gone and that his last task was his way of leaving her with an advantage. Carrie wishes that the vodka would just do it's job after 5 glasses and keep her mind from wandering as it had the night before. The alcohol has just been recently starting to take less and less affect due to the countless nights of indulging in the necessary beverage, and she was quickly building a staggering tolerance. As her mind begins to drift into the unwanted territory that she had for so long ignored and she begins to sweat , he enters the apartment.

"What are you doing here Carrie?" He asks her calmly, knowing why she was.

"I thought you left!" She shouts rises from the sofa.

"I already told you I'm leaving tomorrow," he says maintaining his tone. "Have you been drinking?"

He immediately begins to remove layers and neatly stacks them in a pile near the door, which does nothing to prove that he'll stay.

"Quinn what you did today...," she changes her frantic voice.

"What?"

"He... he changed his mind. He's back on board. YOU did this Quinn. YOU made this happen," she praises him.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he resumes packing.

She sets down her glass, adamant about making him reveal the truth. Placing her hand on the bag he is lifting, she soon begins to irritate him.

"Quinn he trusts you. I don't know why he listens to you, but he does. I need you to help me... please."

He ignores her pleading and flashes his plane ticket. Huffing and figuring out what to say, she tries her best not to look agitated.

"We almost have our guy Quinn... Quinn? What do you even plan on doing back there?"

"By back there, you mean home?" He says only answering her last question.

She rolls her eyes.

"Why do you care about my plans? The only plan I have is to get away from here and be a real person." He says.

"Be a real person?" She says utterly confused. "A real person doesn't just quit their job!"

He wants to say so many things to this, but won't let himself. In fact despite the past 24 hours she's acted more human now than she has the past few months.

"Do whatever you want Carrie," he's now annoyed.

She pulls his face away from his task forcing him to stop packing.

"What I want is to finish what I started. Do my job. We are not fucking finished!"

With a sight bit of force, he pulls her hand off of his face and grabs on tightly while he speaks.

"YOU are not finished! Do it without me," he makes clear.

His grip is strong, but loose enough to where she can release from it. She bitterly leaves his side to grab another drink and returns with one for him.

"What the fuck is that?" He eyes up the drink.

She decides alcohol might help.

"Well I'd rather not drink alone, since you're here and all," she responds staring at the ceiling.

"I don't want it. Thanks."

Her last ditch efforts are accomplishing nothing and she snaps.

"Jesus fucking Christ Quinn you're really fucking leaving! How fucked up is that!?"

"Not as fucked up as you leaving your daughter," he snaps back.

Her hand hits his face with much more force than the playful slap the last time. He knew he hit his first target and he's not finished yet, but has no idea what it will render. It's not the most conventional way to say 'I love you and I can't see you like this, so I'm going to say all these things to you and leave you because I can't say how I really feel', but it's a start.

"Fuck you! Who the fuck are you to say that to me!"

"Do you tell yourself that sending money is the best thing you can do for her!? Or do you just not give a fuck that she's basically an orphan," he continues on point.

He downs the drink she set in front of him in an instant, while watching her lip and chin begin to quiver.

"Oh and... and you treat that boy like he's already dead, even after you fucked him. How the fuck do you expect him to trust you? In fact you treat everyone like they're already gone! Does that make it easier for you? Not caring if he dies?"

"Quinn! Fucking don't!" she shrieks wanting him to stop right now.

"And Saul? Why the fuck can't he help you? Oh maybe because you don't want to have to tell everybody how you've really been 'maintaining' your assets. I don't want that shit on me."

"Goddamnit stop it!" She lunges at him again smacking him even harder. He's not lying and it sounds ugly. Ugly coming from someone else out loud because it is her reality.

This time he's had enough of it and when she turns around, he smacks her where he can reach her hitting her right in the ass. Even more furious, she immediately turns around to scold him.

"Did you just fucking spank me?"

He can't believe he even did it, but he was getting sick of her hitting him for saying what he thinks no matter how aggressive it was, it's all true. Something in the way she asks him though, makes him smirk for a second before frowning again.

"Yeah, I did," he says moving towards her.

Carrie pushes past him and immediately leaves the apartment in tears, which begin to form before she even walks out the door. His words sting like a fucking sunburn, just like the one forming on her face as she lights a cigarette outside. She's realizing there's a reason why he did it though. She knows deep down that Quinn actually gives a fuck about her which is exactly why she needs him around to survive.

As she takes the final few drags of her cigarette, it occurs to that her game is not over. Although her advances were denied the previous night, she's still not willing to give up this soon. Quinn was just as much of an asset as her actual assets and she refuses to see him leave. The way she was doing it was just all wrong. With a new found confidence, she heads back upstairs.

He reluctantly lets her in just waiting for another argument, but he knows it's mostly the booze. He'd rather her sober up in his company. For some reason though, her attitude has changed drastically.

"I'm sorry," she states.

"Don't be sorry to me."

She paces for a moment before revealing her 'plans' to him.

"Fine you win Quinn. I'll leave!"

"Bullshit!" He responds unaware to her motives.

"I'm not. I just booked a ticket when I was outside," she assures him while grabbing his hand playfully.

His pout turns into a smile, but he quickly remembers who he's dealing with.

"Carrie I don't-"

He is stopped in his tracks with her hand pushing on his chest, backing him right up into the chair behind him. She gracefully steadies her palms on his shoulders and and bends down to meet her lips with his to test the waters. Quinn's not resisting either and invites her onto his lap with his guiding hands. At this point he can't help himself only finding that he wants more.


End file.
